


Empirically Cecil

by doodlegirll



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Positive Cecilos Fic Drive, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodlegirll/pseuds/doodlegirll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos reflects on Cecil, and how he changed everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empirically Cecil

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for the Positive Cecilos Fic Drive on tumblr in response to an absolutely abhorrent fic here on AO3 for the WTNV fandom. I threw this together in fifteen minutes, so it’s unedited, unbetaed, and most definitely not my best, but dammit, I wanted to contribute to this with some fluff to offset the negativity (and settle my stomach). So forgive me.

Growing up in upstate New York, Carlos and his family had always been…different. They were the only Latino family in their small town, and thus, Carlos and his brother and sister were some of the only fluent Spanish speaking kids in their classes growing up. Despite this, Carlos had not struggled to find himself within the community, despite being a member of a minority, and he had never felt lonely, or that he lacked anything. He and his siblings were close, as was his family, always trying to make time to go out to dinner and see a movie together, or go on family trips to the city every so often. His parents were good, hardworking people, his father a lawyer, and his mother a stay at home mom, working as a librarian on the side. He had friends at school, and he never felt that he was any different from them, aside from the fact that his skin was darker, and his hair a bit curlier, and the fact that he could switch between English and Spanish at will.

All of that changed when he moved to Night Vale. For the first time in his life, Carlos had felt the undeniable ache of loneliness. Sure, he had his colleagues, and they were, at the very least, companionable at best when in a lab setting, and they all got along well enough, but this was due more to a forced proximity than it was actual kinship. There were times, late at night, when he would sit in his apartment above the lab and listen to the silence as he typed up reports on his laptop, or watched a documentary on Netflix, or read a book, and he would sometimes find that he wished that, if nothing else, he had someone to share in the silence with.

And then he met Cecil.

Cecil was by no means what he would call a quiet person. Cecil was vivacious, vocal, and veracious in every sense of the word. (Carlos found it interesting that the adjectives that described Cecil all started with the letter V.) Cecil was the kind of person who was the life of the party, vibrant and enthusiastic, and never hesitated to strike up a conversation with any willing participant. Cecil reached out, whilst Carlos reached in. Cecil was the variable in Carlos’s equation that completed the algorithm. Cecil was the piece of Carlos’s puzzle that he hadn’t known was missing until he had found it.

Cecil, with his flyaway white-blond hair, his wiggling, sentient tattoo sleeves, vivid purple eyes, eccentric personality, and a fashion sense that fell somewhere between the Twilight Zone at its worst and Lady Gaga at its best. Cecil, who was kind, altruistic, gentle. Cecil, who reminded Carlos that there were much more important things in life than work, than science, than answers, who instilled in Carlos the love of the unknown, of letting it be for the sake of it being. Cecil, who loved him as no other human being (aside from his family) had loved him before: wholeheartedly, completely, without restraint, for everything Carlos was, and everything he was not, and everything else in between.

He loved him.

Cecil. His Cecil.

Through Cecil, Night Vale became so much more than just a space in which Carlos shared occupancy with a varying number daily. Night Vale became less empirical, less objective, and became more subjective, more personal, as the days went by.

Cecil made Night Vale home. And Carlos wouldn’t trade it for all the science in the world.


End file.
